


and we glided on through waverley and lincoln

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bottom Steve, M/M, Pre-Serum, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:59:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3684378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ah, fu-fuck, right there, Stevie, c’mon,” Bucky groans, squeezing Steve’s hips tight enough to leave little fingertip shaped bruises.</p><p>He can feel himself gasping for air, even if he’s not the one with asthma and shit lungs. There’s sweat trailing down his neck on either side, and a droplet just waiting to slip from his hairline that he’s tempted to wipe off, but that would mean letting go of Steve, and he won’t do that. He lets himself relax further into the blankets even if he’s hot as hell, dead middle of summer, and Steve’s a living, breathing, fucking furnace.</p><p>Steve, whose eyes are half-open and whose chest is rising and falling dangerously quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and we glided on through waverley and lincoln

“Ah, fu- _fuck_ , right there, Stevie, c’mon,” Bucky groans, squeezing Steve’s hips tight enough to leave little fingertip shaped bruises.

He can feel himself gasping for air, even if he’s not the one with asthma and shit lungs. There’s sweat trailing down his neck on either side, and a droplet just waiting to slip from his hairline that he’s tempted to wipe off, but that would mean letting go of Steve, and he won’t do that. He lets himself relax further into the blankets even if he’s hot as hell, dead middle of summer, and Steve’s a living, breathing, fucking furnace.

Steve, whose eyes are half-open and whose chest is rising and falling dangerously quickly.

Bucky runs his thumb over the little vein trailing down the edge of Steve’s stomach. “You all right, punk?” he asks, forcing his hips to still and squeezing down on Steve’s hip with his other hand. Steve stares down at him with confusion before pushing his hair out of his eyes and drawing in a long, shaky breath.

“Why?” he asks, tilting his head. There’s the beginning of an awful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You need a breather, old man?”

He looks so damn smug, but Bucky can feel his heart racing where their bodies are connected. “Just a minute, kiddo,” he replies, even though he’s ready to go again, and they both know it.

Steve screws his eyebrows together and grinds his hips in a slow circle over Bucky’s, regardless of Bucky’s thinly veiled words of concern. He slips his hands from the empty spaces on either side of Bucky’s head to starfish over his pectorals, squeezing with every punctuated roll of his hips, and grunting every time Bucky so much as squeaks in response.

It doesn’t take him long to work up to the pace they’d set earlier, the pace that set Bucky’s teeth on edge and will probably earn them complaints from their neighbors and their landlord, if Lacy and her old gal are on it again. Steve’s moaning like some wanton creature that Bucky fears Steve is entirely capable of becoming, and fears he likes it too much. Bucky, if he’s being honest with himself, isn’t quiet either. Steve’s got sharp bones, and a shaper set of teeth, so every time he so much as leans down to kiss Bucky, it turns into a bite and has Bucky all but keening into his mouth.

Bucky tries to tell Steve to take it easy when he flushes bright red from chest up, eyes fluttering shut with a slack set to his mouth.

“Oh, _God_ ,” Steve hisses out, fingernails digging into Bucky’s skin, knees squeezing Bucky’s hips and it’s all Bucky can do to hold on and watch as Steve sucks in a gasp and comes in stripes over his chest, milking his orgasm by clamping down on Bucky and grinding his hips as much as his little body can until he collapses into his own mess, breathless and spent.

He’s shivering when he comes to a moment later, and Bucky doesn’t have the heart to tell him he drooled on his chest because he’s a chivalrous motherfucker. Instead, he strokes a hand down Steve’s spine and whispers calming nonsense in his ear.

Eventually, when Steve catches his breath, he shifts over Bucky’s chest before leaning up onto his bony elbows. He’s a hairsbreadth from kissing Bucky, his nose brushing Bucky’s every time he so much as shifts.

“You didn’t come,” he mutters, frowning at Bucky as though the possibility didn’t occur to him.

Bucky shrugs and shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he replies, reaching up and ruffling Steve’s hair. It’s kind of uncomfortable to sit and talk with his mostly still hard dick in Steve’s ass but he won’t be put out if Steve isn’t up for a round two just for him.

Steve, of course, has a different idea.

He shoots him a grimace and mumbles, “so not fine,” under his breath before swinging his leg over Bucky’s body and sliding off of Bucky’s dick. He shimmies down Bucky’s body and spreads Bucky’s legs before ducking down and licking a stripe from Bucky’s hole to his balls, then peppers kisses along the underside of his cock. Once he gets to the tip, he gives little kitten licks to the slit, all the while shooting Bucky his best bedroom eyes.

It’s all Bucky can do to gape like a fish and knot his fingers in the sheets.

It doesn’t take Steve long to bring Bucky off with his mouth. He’s always been good at hummers, never really had any significant gag reflex, though Bucky sometimes suspects he’s a fucking liar about it. He goes in with enthusiasm, and makes a pretty show of hollowing his cheeks out and slurping as much as possible. If he catches Bucky’s eye, he won’t let him go, and Steve knows that’s usually what does Bucky in.

He’s slipping a finger in Bucky’s hole before he really notices and as soon as he crooks it right into his sweet spot, Bucky’s coming like a bullet down Bucky’s throat, exhaling on a long, loud moan.

“Fuck, _Steve_ ,” he groans, reaching down and grabbing Steve’s hair without thinking. He arches his hips up and into Steve’s mouth and he thanks his stars that Steve doesn’t choke as he swallows him down.

Bucky slumps back into the mattress after the high leaves him and breathes shaky breaths until he’s relaxed again. Steve’s drawing small patterns over his stomach, humming something he must’ve heard on one of their neighbor’s radio. Bucky ought to ask Jim and Gary next door if they’re selling their old model; Steve’s always liked the accompaniment of noise as he draws his comics by the window. Bucky wishes he had enough to buy one on his own, but times are tough.

He curls onto his side and tosses an arm over Steve’s shoulders before pulling him into a soft kiss, licking over the swollen part of his lower lip that Bucky must’ve bit down on at some point.

When he pulls away, Steve’s got his eyes half-shut and a little grin on his lips. Bucky likes it so much he ducks back in to taste it before pulling away with a half hidden giggle and butterflies in his stomach, though he ain’t keen on admitting it.

Still, Steve calls him out on it. “You look happy, punk.”

Bucky can’t even bring himself to care. He nudges Steve’s knee with his own and flicks his hip with his fingertip. “So do you, you big jerk.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yell at me on [tumblr](http://frouvaire.tumblr.com).


End file.
